The Caatinga Field Journal thus becomes not only a space for creation, but also a method of investigation, sensitivity, and belonging.

Botanical observation in the Caatinga through running, field journaling, botanical drawing, and watercolor painting. A reflection on plant encounters, landscape awareness, and the relationships that emerge through attentive observation.

Entre aroma, textura e observação botânica, iniciei os primeiros estudos da rara Isabelcristinia aromatica. Um encontro que começou no herbário e segue agora no estúdio, entre folhas macias, microscópio, grafite e atenção aos detalhes invisíveis da planta.

After drawing it, you never look at a flower the same way again

The friar’s crown cactus belongs to the genus *Melocactus* and is one of the most striking plants of the Caatinga. Its rounded shape and reddish top make it a unique, almost silent presence within the landscape. Some species in this group are threatened with extinction due to illegal removal from nature and habitat loss. Perhaps that is why encountering them along the way creates such a strong feeling.

Entre o verde intenso deixado pelas chuvas e a ausência das flores que antes preenchiam o caminho, a Caatinga revelou mais uma vez seus próprios ritmos. Em uma nova ida a campo entre Pilar e Vassourinhas, observei como cada território responde ao tempo de maneira singular e como o desenho nasce também desses intervalos da paisagem.

Finding a heart-shaped leaf in the middle of the Caatinga is more than a botanical observation — it is an encounter with delicacy. Jitirana (Ipomoea sericophylla) transforms the path into poetry and drawing into permanence.

A drawing does not always end when the graphite touches the paper. Often, the preservation stage is just as important as the drawing itself. That is how I started using matte fixative spray to protect my sketchbook drawings and also my finished artworks that will be framed.

On April 28, we celebrate Caatinga Day: the only biome found exclusively in Brazil. Among droughts, thorns, and resilience, there is also delicacy, beauty, and a botanical richness that deserves to be seen with greater attention.

O studo botânico em grafite da Flor Mariana nasce da observação atenta de suas formas, valores tonais e delicadezas estruturais, em um processo A3 que une ciência, contemplação e território.

On April 4th, during a trail journey, I encountered several blooms of xique-xique ( Pilosocereus gounellei ) emerging among the spines. Field journal record: Eveli Rayane The encounter became even more meaningful because, on the previous day, I had followed another trail in the same region, yet in a different direction, and found no blooms of this species. This contrast made me realize, once again, how a single territory holds its own particular diversity, shaped by direction

The Mariana flower returns to the Caatinga field journal, where a renewed encounter shifts the gaze toward leaves, detail, and the unfolding watercolor process.

Some flowers arrive first through imagination. My first encounter with Mariana happened while reading Flowers of the Caatinga (CASTRO; CAVALCANTE, 2010), when the species still lived only within the territory of research and imagination. Even before seeing it in the field, I was already captivated by the delicacy of its petals and the singular beauty of its form. At that moment, it seemed like one of those rare flowers that might remain only in the realm of research, images

Mariana ( Commelina erecta ) , with its intense blue and delicate sheen, continues to reveal itself in layers throughout my process of observation and painting. After the encounter in the field and the initial record in the Caatinga Field Journal , I began last week a two-stage study: first a graphite drawing , followed by the first watercolor interpretation . The study began in graphite as a way to better understand the flower’s structure, the arrangement of its petals, the

Walking through the Caatinga requires a particular kind of attention. It is not a hurried gaze, nor a direct search. It is a state of presence. With the arrival of the rains, the landscape transforms: green spreads across the land, and within this renewed density, flowers begin to appear beautifully. Before the drawing, there is movement. The body crosses the landscape, and the gaze learns to slow down. To observe, in this context, is not only to see; it is to recognize rhyth

I left home that day with a simple intention: to observe. There was a quiet sense within me that I would encounter different flowers along the way. I didn’t know which ones, or where—so I simply ran with an attentive gaze. It was during the run that it appeared—a small blue point, almost silent, between the green and the ground… I stopped immediately. Mariana ( Commelina erecta ) is one of those flowers that require presence. Low-growing, discreet, arranged in small sequences

During a long time, my encounters with flowers were quiet. I would walk, observe, and record them through photography. These images were not just records; they were small pauses in the day. Often, I would share them as daily inspiration on Instagram. The colors, the forms, and the presence of these flowers would pass through the routine and transform the way I perceived the territory. It was a way of reminding myself and others that there is beauty along the path. When the ga

Mandacaru: when drawing meets the flower Before encountering this flower along the way, I had already drawn the mandacaru flower. The first study emerged from images I found on the internet. They were beautiful photographs, useful as references, and they helped me understand the general form of the flower: the long petals, the luminous center, the contrast with the cactus’s spiny green. However, at that moment, the drawing was still an approximation — an exercise in observati